


The Winchester Serial Killings

by NyeLung



Series: Agent Joe Braeden [1]
Category: Marvel, Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Maria Hill, Asexual Phil Coulson, F/M, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Swearing, au-ish, because dean, supernatural books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyeLung/pseuds/NyeLung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson was meeting a dead end, which was more frustrating than it should have been. He was working on the case of the Winchester serial killings, that no one had solved so far and he began to understand why the FBI had given up.<br/>When the FBI seems unable to catch Dean Winchester, who should be dead, but isn't, it becomes a case for SHIELD and lands on Phil's desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dead Ends

### Chapter 1

Phil Coulson was meeting a dead end which was more frustrating than it should have been. He was working the case of the Winchester serial killings, that no one had solved so far and he began to understand why the FBI had given up after their agent – Victor Henricksen – who had been appointed the case had been killed in a gas explosion that might or might not have been the work of the Winchesters. The Winchesters were professionals. They didn't leave any trace that could be used. Witnesses changed their statements or gave ones that didn't make any sense if there were any witnesses left.

He looked again at the long list of charges that could be filed against the Winchesters – at least against the two sons of John Winchester, who had died a few years back. Credit card fraud, impersonating officials, arson, burglary, theft, breaking and entering, grave desecration, one bank robbery with hostage situation, the killings of St. Louis by Dean Winchester, several other murders that could be linked to the Winchesters – including some very gruesome massacres in barns and caves – but not proven because of contradictory witness reports or no witnesses at all. Phil had never studied behavioural analysis like the BAU of the FBI, but he did know the Winchesters had to be deeply disturbed persons to commit such atrocities.

This case would never have made it to Phil's desk, horrifying as it might be, if it hadn't been for the traces of non-human abilities shown by Dean Winchester, namely him being dead or supposed to be dead. Phil had read the report and death certificate after the killings of St. Louis and had even checked the grave and corpse for DNA which was unmistakable the DNA of Dean Winchester. When Phil's ME for the case – one Dr. Greg Garrison from Maple Springs, New York – found traces of silver in the shot wound, Phil began to suspect something more than just mutants or aliens. Maybe it was one of those two and had been mistaken for a creature from legend. Or it really had been a creature from legend and he just never heard about it before.

Phil had put up a map in his office. It depicted twenty-seven years of violence and crimes in the form of coloured dots, newspaper articles or police reports, though sometimes the Winchesters had been seen and the deputies in question had not reported such. Most likely they had been compromised in some form. Phil knew that and yet could do nothing about it. They kept their silence as well as all witnesses and so Phil was left with reports from Henricksen. Enough material to drown his office in paper but still everything only lead to dead ends.

He continued to ponder over the map, silently sipping his coffee before it could turn cold and thought. The only one who was really frustrated that he couldn't solve the Winchester serial killings was himself. It would be the first case, where he couldn't even manage a single insight. It was a stab to his pride and he wasn't about to give in that easily although this case was slowly turning into an investigatory nightmare of gigantic proportions. The bloody journey of the Winchesters through the States had started in Lawrence, Kansas, when Mary Winchester nee Campbell died in a fire. From then on they lived like nomads, leaving corpses or desecrated graves in their trail. Mostly corpses, though.

His eyes flitted to Stanford. Sam Winchester's girlfriend Jessica Lee Moore had also died in a fire. He guessed that there was a connection between the deaths other than Sam Winchester, but couldn't find any other than that and the manner of death. A fire, where there shouldn't have been one and traces of sulphur.

Lawrence, Kansas was one of the places the Winchesters had visited more than once. Then there was Sioux Falls, South Dakota and Cicero, Indiana. Some other places as well, but these two held significance. The last one was Pontiac, Illinois and that was, where things went from weird to absolutely strange. Dean Winchester had always been seen without many pauses or days between sightings. He left a trail one could follow as long as one knew where to look. Security tapes of gas stations for example or the names he used to book motel rooms, mostly classic rock stars or actors. But for four months nothing, just nothing. No motel room, no sighting at all. Then, just as sudden as he dropped out, he was back again, in Pontiac, Illinois, where there had been reports of a big flash of light and a forest clearing that looked like a bomb site surrounding a simple grave. Phil had been there and it left him puzzled and... anxious in a way, because as soon as he set foot on the clearing he had felt something that eluded his senses, something... more.

The door to his office was opened and Maria came in. They'd been in training together and had been friends ever since. Usually it was her who forced him to take a break from a case, when he was too deeply entrenched in his paperwork and it was Phil who made sure she took her leave, when she needed to. “Alright, Phil, time to get out of the office.” Her eyes wandered around and took in the chaos of reports and files. “This isn't going to be fixed by time on the shooting range. You're going home now and relax. No paperwork for you until tomorrow and no arguments.” Phil shut his mouth. He knew better. “I think it's time for you to read again, to relax.”

“Maria, I've been reading non-stop for days”, he reminded her. His eyes sure felt like it.

“I didn't talk about reports and files. Read some literature and unwind. I can come over tomorrow and cook.” Those words had a nice ring to them. Maria was a brilliant cook.

He leaned back in his seat and noticed only now how tired he was. “What do you suggest as a relaxing read then?”

Maria hid a small grin. At least in the privacy of their respective offices she did not have to be as bossy as around the other agents. Well, that did not hinder her from ordering him to rest. “How about this?” She held up a small book. The cover already screamed “I'm a trashy fantasy novel” with the white letters reading “Supernatural”. Beneath were two young men, ripped muscles and, of course, shirtless.

Phil raised one eyebrow. “You are joking, right?” Maria's face stayed completely calm and serious. No joke then, too bad. “Then give it to me but are you sure that this will help me unwind? Not everyone shares your taste.” No one except Phil and possibly Nick Fury knew, that Maria liked to read trashy fantasy and even fanfiction. Especially about two guys having sex together. Two good looking guys having lots and lots of fantastic sex. Everyone had their guilty pleasure, he guessed.  
“Alright, give it to me. I'll decide after the first few pages.”

 

Phil had started cursing five pages in. Then he got all the other ones from Maria and skimmed through them with her help. The map got a few more dots and made a hell of a lot more sense now. He wasn't sure he was ready to believe in monsters, angels and demons and that Dean Winchester and his brothers were the protagonists of a series of books, but it just fit so perfectly together, he had to investigate further.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil Coulson is getting closer.

### Chapter 2

It seemed like the books of Carver Edlund were for real. Phil didn't know how it was possible, but guessed that maybe, just maybe, Dean Winchester had written them, because otherwise it wouldn't make any sense at all. Still sitting in his car in a parking lot in Cicero, Indiana, Phil pulled the last book of Carver Edlund's series out of his bag and skipped straight to the last pages. There wasn't an exact address in it, but he remembered that the house of Lisa Braeden had been quite carefully described.

Of course, he had looked her up immediately after the books suggested a connection to Dean Winchester. He had been baffled, when the search didn't turn out empty, but with one hit. A woman named Lisa Braeden, living in Cicero, Indiana, one son around the age of ten, that might even be the son of Dean Winchester. She was teaching Yoga just like in the books and the picture of her passport revealed her to be very similar to her description. 

He wasn't sure how to wrap his head around this situation, but on the other hand he _did_ fight alongside Tony Stark's secretary against a man in a giant metal armour, had seen Captain America being freed from the ice, did his part in that gruesome business with Bruce Banner etcetera. Actually, giving it another thought, this wasn't even half as bad as a green rage monster that destroyed everything in its path.

Now, to the next stage of his plan to meet Dean Winchester. After reading the books, he wasn't quite sure any longer, if he really needed to catch the guy. Maybe he was a delusional author who wrote his crimes down. Or he was a hero.

All things considered it hadn't been all that difficult to meet Dean Winchester in person. Phil's car mysteriously breaking down close to the workshop Winchester worked at, a call and the mention of his “Lola” being an old car might have helped things along. Just like himself Dean Winchester seemed to like classic cars. Not old, classic. It had been a good idea that Phil hadn't modified Lola so far that a car mechanic who knew his stuff would notice anything... special.

Phil had broken down the car on the side of the road and Dean Winchester just walked the few meters up to Lola. He called himself Joe Braeden, Phil had heard. Braeden like his girlfriend and Joe maybe in honour of a dead friend, mentor or whatever delusion he held. Now that Winchester walked up to him and Lola, Phil noticed something else. Dean Winchester was a tall man, at least half a head taller than Phil. He just always seemed so small, because he always, always stood protectively in front of his far taller, younger brother Sam.

“Mister Braeden, a pleasure.” Phil produced one of his genuine fake smiles and put out his hand. “It seems my Lola has a bit of a problem. Decided to act up just as I came by here.”

“Lucky, I guess”, Winchester replied with the same smile that Phil had seen on a lot of tapes. It was just as fake as Phil's own. “Sixtytwo Corvette? Very nice car you got there. Joe, by the way. May I take a closer look?”

Phil took a step back from Lola. “You'll have to, if you want to tell me what's wrong with her.”

“Let's see.” Winchester took off his gloves and opened the bonnet to study the motor. “So, what did she do before she stopped? Sputter?”

“Just stopped. Nothing unusual, just suddenly no more motor.” It had been a killswitch, that wouldn't hurt Lola too much. After all, Phil liked her very much and didn't want to cripple her permanently.

Winchester checked the whole motor carefully now. If he was as good as Phil thought he was, he would find the killswitch right about - “I've got good news and bad news for you, pal.” He rested his arms on the bonnet. “Good news, I know what made Lola stop. Bad news, someone out there hates you very, very much.”

Phil took off his glasses and leaned against Lola's side. “Then we have something in common, don't we, Mister Winchester?”

Phil gave Winchester credit for not reacting visibly. He just smiled nonchalantly and shrugged it off. “I don't know what you're talking about, pal, but you've got the wrong guy.”

“Agent Phillip J. Coulson, but Phil Coulson is enough. I'm with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” Phil could say the name in under a second if he wanted to. He registered that Winchester had to concentrate to get the full name and to notice that he never posed as an agent for this division. Therefore, it didn't exist.

“Never heard of you lot, but I assure you, you're not looking for me. Name's Joe Braeden and I'm a car mechanic.” He packed his things, but one of his hands remained in close proximity to where Phil had noticed a weapon, most likely a colt.

“You are a friend to Lisa Braeden, have an illegitimate child named Ben Braeden, although neither you nor her ever made a test for fatherhood.” Phil's hand moved closer to one of the two books he had taken with him: The kids are alright by Carver Edlund. “You would be surprised what one can read in the books by Carver Edlund, Mister Winchester.” He held up the book and grabbed for the next one. Swan Song, the last book in the Supernatural Series. “For example how a certain Sam Winchester, your brother, jumped into the cage with Lucifer in his body and you were left behind to pick up the remnants of your life. So you went to your old girlfriend and she helped you.”

That got a reaction out of Dean Winchester. He paled visibly under his sun toned skin and his hands were clenched to fists. “That is not what happened”, he pressed out between gritted teeth. For a moment eyes flashed black before Winchester found his composure again.

Phil was suddenly very wary of Winchester. His free hand instinctively searched for his gun. “Christo”, he whispered.

There was no humour in Winchester's eyes upon hearing the word. “Not a demon, agent. Never.” Winchester just said those words, but Phil heard more behind them. He just couldn't put his finger down on it.

“Demons don't exist”, Phil replied automatically and then chided himself. He'd just said “Christo” upon seeing black eyes.

Winchester smirked knowingly. “You sure, you believe that? Doesn't look like it and you do seem to think those books are real, too.”

“They do explain a lot of things, Mister Winchester. I've seen your work around the country, followed you after the FBI gave up.” He probably wouldn't have found him if it hadn't been for the books. “For all I know you could have written those books yourself to justify all your murders, thefts, grave digging and all the other crimes you, your father and your brother committed.”

“Don't say a word against my father”, Winchester flared up, eyes flashing angry and only now Phil noticed that they weren't green, at least not both of them. One was blue, a very crystal clear blue.

“He was a hero?”, Phil finished the sentence with a quote from one of the books. “Yes, I've read that in Henriksen's reports.”

Winchester glared at him and crossed his arms. “So, what are you gonna do now, agent? Take me in? I don't think so. Because you don't know any longer, whether or not you need to. You've read those books and they fit too perfectly, right?” He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “gonna kill Chuck for that”, but Phil couldn't be sure about that.

“Give me proof.” Phil crossed his arms as well in perfect mimicry of Winchester. “If you are a delusional thug, I will bring you in and make sure you never harm anyone again. If you are not, I will make sure that you can live in peace with your girlfriend and son.” He made a meaningful pause, just because he could. “Let's find out which one it is.”

_Yes, there is a very good explanation for the eyes. Trust me. I usually don't do that kind of stuff, but here it actually makes sense. Has to do with the AU-ish part of the story._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil Coulson and Dean Winchester have a talk

### Chapter 3

They were sitting in the garage next to a '67 Chevrolet Impala which was in excellent condition. Phil recognized it as the car from the books. Winchester was drinking beer from a bottle and Phil had declined courteously. He didn't want to take any risks and most certainly wouldn't drink on the job when he was sitting next to a suspect. _The_ suspect, he corrected himself.

“The books are bullshit”, Winchester suddenly said. “Especially the last one.”

Phil didn't answer. His gut told him to just sit and wait. Winchester was about to spill everything and any word out of Phil's mouth would be detrimental.

“I've read them after all of this was over. Every last one of them. They are complete and utter bullshit. You've read the meta one with Chuck inserting himself in the story as the prophet?” He took another casual sip from his bottle and didn't seem to expect an answer from Phil. He hadn't read it, by the way, just scanned through it for the important parts. “Yeah, well, whatever he dreamed as the prophet was accurate, man, every detail. I remember, I've lived through it, though I could do without the memories of hell”, Winchester said. Not a sip this time. A gulp. “He wrote it all down and I could've done without the whole shitload that came with that.”

Phil continued to listen. This was important. He still wasn't sure whether Dean Winchester was a complete lunatic or a hero, but this conversation was absolutely important, maybe even more important than any other job he ever had.

“He wrote down that whole mess, that was our life. He wrote us down as heroes for some kind of … _Winchester gospel_.” Winchester huffed bitterly and emptied his bottle before he continued talking. “He made us into some kind of heroes who we weren't. We weren't some kind of chosen ones to save earth. We just wanted to live, so we fought for that and bled and died. Hell, I died twice, I've been in hell for decades and then I just fought and bled and nearly died all over again for far more times than I'm comfortable with.” Winchester paced now, couldn't stay seated while telling this story. Phil could relate to that. “We weren't heroes, we weren't”, Winchester huffed again, “ _righteous men_. We slaughtered and tortured, how righteous is that, Agent Coulson? For the greater good? Is that worth it?”

Phil didn't know how to answer that. He didn't support torture. Investigation, sure, but torture wasn't a measure he would take to get answers. But then again ... If half of what he had read was true, the Winchesters would have died half a year into the war between heaven and hell, because they didn't know what they needed to.

“Sammy let Lucifer in because of some shitty plan. We had no alternatives. It was either apocalypse with only Lucifer or apocalypse with Michael and Lucifer duking it out, killing _only_ half the planet. Or we could do things our way and get Lucifer back in the cage.” Winchester opened another bottle. Whiskey this time. “I was there in the cemetery where they wanted to fight. We had a half brother and Michael took him as his angel condom, while Lucifer wore Sammy to the prom. Then there was me. Cas, Bobby and me and we said no. It wasn't half as dramatically as Chuck wrote it. We didn't stand a chance. I mean, two humans and one fallen angel against two archangels who wanted nothing else but rip each other's throat out?” Winchester fell silent and drank.

“So, what happened? That day in the cemetery?”, Phil couldn't help but ask. Even if it was just a story of a delusional thug, he wanted to know how it ended.

The look of his mismatched eyes wandered off into the distance of the past. The bottle of whiskey was half empty and hung loose in one hand, while the other hung limp at his side as though he didn't know what to do with it. Then he shuddered. “Lucifer exploded Bobby. Michael only took a step back and let Lucifer have fun. He protected Cas though, guess it's some angel thing. That left me and Lucifer and Sammy. He was still in there and Lucifer made him watch everything.” He shuddered again, more severe. His voice was only a hoarse whisper now as though he could wake the past just by speaking about it. “Lucifer ripped my soul to shreds. You can never destroy a soul or tear parts off of it, but you can hurt it and deform it until it is nothing more than a demon. He made Sammy watch it all. Cas begged Michael to help me, to stop Lucifer but he did nothing.” Winchester's voice was bitter now. “I don't remember much past that. Just like the time I was in hell and so far gone I was nearly a demon myself.”

“How are you still alive?”, Phil asked puzzled.

“It was Sammy.” The warmth in Winchester's voice and eyes was genuine. He might have some delusions, but the love for his brother was real. “For a moment he got control back and he jumped into the cage. Michael tried to stop him, but failed and as far as I know he was pretty much content with how things turned out. Cas told me that Michael tried to kill me because I was turning into a demon without being dead and all and a lot of bullshit about a balance that had to be held, but Cas was there and he saved me. He didn't have much of his grace left, was almost completely human at the time, so he had only one way to keep me from becoming a full demon, black smoke and all, you know.” 

Phil got an idea what Castiel might have done. It was absolutely crazy, but then again that always seemed to be the case, when you had to do with the Winchesters. “He gave you the last of his grace to mend your soul.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Winchester nodded nonetheless.

“Something like that.” The whiskey bottle was empty now but Winchester didn't even slur his words. Off topic Phil began to wonder, how many agents Winchester could drink under the table and came out with a long list including Clint Barton. “Sammy saved the world. He's now in the cage with Lucifer and that thought alone drives me crazy because I can't fucking help him without unleashing Lucifer again. Cas sort of died to save me. _Me_! The righteous man who broke the first seal and is nothing more than the burnt and broken shell of a man.” He sounded like he quoted someone. That either didn't make it into the books or it just wasn't in the parts Phil had skimmed through. “At least Michael returned to heaven and is now kicking ass around the sons of bitches that kickstarted the apocalypse a few millennia too early.”

Phil rose from his seat, let a hand rest on the bonnet of the Impala and did his best to give off a friendly and calm aura. “That answers some of my questions, Mister Winchester. May I ask another one?”

“Shoot.” Winchester shrugged. “I was expecting you to take me into custody right about now.”

“I want to offer you a job.”

Winchester blinked. “What?”

“I might be able to convince myself that all of this, the books and your story, are just the ramblings of a delusional lunatic with religious psychosis.” He paused. “I would love to believe that, but then again, I am not stupid and there are things about you and your story that can't be explained with science or the kind of alien tech that I've encountered so far. Ergo, there is a high possibility that your story is true because all the facts check out and that means my agency is in dire need to learn how we can shield ourselves against the kind of threats that you've encountered.”

Winchester blinked again and seemed at a loss for words.

“You don't have to decide now”, Phil added. “You have a girlfriend and a son to think of and the work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division is dangerous.” He reached inside his pocket for a business card and gave it to Winchester. “Call me, when you have decided.”

Phil was halfway out of the garage when Winchester broke out of his stupor. “Alien tech, you say? Real aliens?” Phil nodded and just before finally leaving, he picked up the muttered words “thought my life was fucked up” from Winchester.

_Just like the first two chapters, this one was beta'd by the wonderful Lania and as soon as I figure out, how to put links in this html-system, I will do so. Check her out._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury is not amused.

### Chapter 4

“Have you lost your mind?”, Nick Fury all but hissed menacingly. “You offered a wanted criminal a job at SHIELD because your gut feeling told you he's no threat to us but an asset?”

“He did assist me in solving the Winchester serial killings.” Phil omitted that Winchester himself had just helped in the last bit clearing up some questions he still had.

“He _is_ the serial killer, for fuck's sake.” Director Fury started cursing in a very figuratively manner. Phil filed some of the better metaphors away for later to tell them to Maria.

“Actually, he is the one preventing a lot of serial killings.” Phil ignored Fury's disbelieving look. “I know that we never encountered any of that which he described, but trust me, they do exist.”

“Why do I get the feeling that I won't like, what you're about to tell me, Coulson?” Fury's eyebrow twitched, but at least he wasn't cursing any more. In the background Winchester straightened up a bit. He didn't say anything, which was good.

“I investigated if demons really do exist.” Phil stopped himself from shrugging nonchalantly. That definitely would aggravate Director Fury and it didn't fit Phil's image to shrug. “As a matter of fact, they do and they are not easy to kill unless you know how to do it.”

Director Fury didn't answer.

“So, can we hire him?” Phil would really prefer Winchester as SHIELD's consultant for the supernatural over some of his fellow hunters after meeting them. After Phil had left the garage he had received a mail from Winchester, who had somehow found out his contact. It had been a list of hunters who might be inclined to teach him about the supernatural. He had nearly been shot three times after revealing that he was a government agent, nearly stabbed five times and one had charged at him with his fists. Lucky for him, Winchester decided to take him up on his offer and delivered Phil's first honest to god proof that the supernatural was real: A living and later dying demon.

“He can take the tests. If he's as good as you claim he is, he will make it.” Director Fury rose from his seat. Winchester straightened a bit more which, Phil guessed considering his psychological profile, was because of his father's training. “And Coulson, you will organize a specialized team to take care of any supernatural threats in SHIELD's area of influence.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 

Dean Winchester got exactly the same test that every SHIELD-agent was given before they were allowed to start. It was a bit unfair, because how should Winchester know about SHIELD-protocols and regulations? As a matter of fact, he didn't even do half bad in that test because he had enough experience with playing agents of various government organizations.

He failed at dismantling a bomb before it would explode but could rig up an almost decent one himself.

Winchester was very good when it came to firearms. At first, he seemed almost bored while shooting at standing targets. He became more and more thrilled when the targets started to move faster and faster and only began to miss his mark when their velocity hit the superhuman range. Phil had to admit that Winchester would be one of SHIELD's best shots although not as good as Clint Barton.

He was also disturbingly good at hand to hand combat and with a knife. Phil was grateful that it was one of the younger agents who tested him in that area. He made a mental mark to check out the young agent, if he had the potential to be in his specialized unit for supernatural threats. Grant Ward. If Phil recalled correctly, he was one of Garrett's men.

Even for Phil, who had seen his fair share, it was disturbing to see Winchester's interrogation methods. He started the normal routine but every inch of his body showed that he would use violence and that he knew which places hurt the most without killing. Phil shuddered when no one was looking at him, because everyone watched Winchester in sick fascination.

Technology wasn't Winchester's strongest suit, but he knew how to cover his tracks so that not every amateur would be able to find him. No one was surprised when he aced his cover-mission. He could fake pretty much everything. He was also capable of giving first aid in the field, which was more important than most people wanted to admit.

Then it was Winchester's turn to be interrogated and keep his secrets. He laughed most of the time, when he wasn't choking on his own blood and then laughed again. His interrogator didn't even get his name, not even after using truth serums and drugs. After five days, his interrogator gave up.

“He's hired”, Director Fury said after that last test. “Coulson, you teach him what he needs to know, but as soon as he falls off the moral compass, you shoot him.”

 

Dean did some basic encryption on his line to Lisa before he called her. He'd just gotten out of medical after his stunt with the interrogator, which was laughable after years and years of hell. He knew that SHIELD would most likely crack his encryption within seconds, but he wouldn't let them into his call for free, so he did it anyway.

“Hey”, he tried his best to sound as though he knew what he was doing. He didn't. Of course he'd told Lisa about the job offer and what it would mean for him and her, but neither of them had wanted to think about it too much. Now he'd been accepted into SHIELD and they had to deal with the consequences that came with that.

“You did it?” Her voice was seemingly calm, but Dean could hear the little trembles in it.

“I did it. Lisa...” He paused trying to come up with the right words. Like always.

“You're hunting again.” Lisa did her best not to sound reproachful. “You told me, that you were done with hunting, that you just wanted a normal life.”

Dean blinked as though she'd slapped him through the mobile phone in his hand. “Yes”, he responded hoarsely. “I want a normal life. With you and Ben and a white picket fence, but...”

“That's not who you are. I understand”, Lisa cut him off. “I knew that eventually you would go hunting again. Actually, I thought that it would happen much sooner.”

“Thank you.” There were no other words to express his feelings for this woman.


End file.
